


As You Wish

by stupidnephilimlove



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Princess Bride Fusion, M/M, Not Really Character Death, Tags will update with chapters, and has a definite fluff imbalance, it's schmoopy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 09:03:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13478163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stupidnephilimlove/pseuds/stupidnephilimlove
Summary: It's a chaotic day in the Lightwood-Bane household, and Magnus is at his wits' end trying to keep Max and Rafael from mischief. When his eyes come to rest on a gift Alec once gave him - a Princess Bride inspired love story, their love story - he knows the perfect way to occupy his boys.“This...” Magnus starts, a finger tapping lightly on the red book cover. “This is the best kind of book. It has swashbuckling pirates, gruesome monsters, daring escapes, true love… even miracles.”





	As You Wish

**Author's Note:**

> beta'd by [irisphryneadler](https://irisphryneadler.tumblr.com) who I cannot thank enough because you made this 1000% better (shush I know 1000% isn't a thing, but in this case it really is).  
> Give her kudo's and be broken by her adorably [fluffy fics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/irisadler/pseuds/irisadler)
> 
> You can find me on [tumblr](https://stupidnephilimlove.tumblr.com)

Rafael and Max are arguing. It’s not the first time today, or even in the last hour, and Magnus’ usually endless patience is beginning to wear thin. If he’s honest, it’s on the verge of breaking. Magnus loves his sons, unconditionally and with a ferocity that often surprises even him. Rafael, Max, and Alexander are a realised dream, one he had never let himself dare to hope for. But after three days of them being cooped up in the loft, a spot of sickness keeping the boys from school, it’s really no surprise that they’re all beginning to grate on each other’s nerves. Magnus is almost jealous that Alec got called in to work to deal with a demon-related emergency. Almost. There is that constant threat of being covered in demon ichor, after all. He’ll definitely take two unruly boys over that.

To make matters worse, Magnus hasn’t heard from Alec since he left with a hurried kiss this morning. He hasn’t even texted, and maybe that’s adding to Magnus’ restlessness. It’s out of character for Alec to be out of contact for so long. Usually, he sends Magnus little snippets throughout the day, something Jace did that annoyed him, or what Isabelle said to make him laugh, or just a simple “I miss you,” because Alec is ridiculously romantic. And Magnus? Well, Magnus guesses he is too.

Magnus glances around the room in exasperation, and when his eyes fall on the bookshelf, it’s the thought of Alec that draws him to it. There’s a particular volume that captures Magnus’ attention. It’s slim, hand-bound in fine red leather. Its title, an elegant twisting script, is stamped in gold. Gently, he runs a finger down the well-worn spine of the book, an idea sparking in his mind. What better way to entertain the boys, while distracting himself from his worry about Alec, than with this precious gift of Alec’s from their first anniversary?

When Magnus turns back to the boys, he finds them chasing each other around the sofa, clearly feeling better. Magnus is fearful for half of his ornaments, just as he is every time they do this, no matter how well warded they are. His heart leaps in his chest as they brush close to a vase, and he watches as it wobbles gently before righting itself.

Magnus claps his hands together with just a hint of magic, enhancing the sound so it echoes loudly around the room. The boys stop, clapping their hands over their ears and scowling at their father in protest.

“Story time!” Magnus says cheerfully, shepherding them towards the bedroom. Somehow - and Magnus commends himself for this - he manages to get them all snuggled under the covers in the master bedroom with minimal protests. Magnus is in the middle, of course. He’s not an idiot. He knows what they’re like.

“Is this going to be one of _those_ books?” Rafael asks, eyeing the cover warily.

“Which books?” Inquires Magnus, knowing full well what Rafael is referring to.

“The kissing books.” Rafael grimaces at the word, disgusted he even has to say it, and Magnus has to hold back a chuckle at the look on his face.

“This...” Magnus starts, a finger tapping lightly on the red book cover. “This is the best kind of book. It has swashbuckling pirates, gruesome monsters, daring escapes, true love… even miracles.”

Max is hanging on Magnus’ every word, a look of wonder and excitement in his eyes, but Rafael still wears his petulant frown, though Magnus is sure he saw a hint of interest for a moment.

“So... there’s going to be kissing.” Rafael huffs out a sigh of unhappy resignation.

Magnus takes a deep breath to calm his frustration before turning to his son.

“I promise to leave the kissing out, okay?”

Rafael grudgingly nods his approval, and Magnus looks back at the book.

“Besides, this is a special book. One of a kind. It’s called _As You Wish_ , and it’s by Alexander Lightwood-Bane _._ ”

Max squeals in excitement, his face lighting up with delight.

“That’s our Daddy!”

Magnus can’t help the smile that spreads across his face.

“Yes, he is. And he wrote this story just for me. On our first anniversary.”

Alec always thinks he’s a terrible gift giver, but the things Magnus holds closest to his heart have all been gifted to him by Alec, the omamori charm, this book, his family. Max’s attention is back on the book, his body bouncing up and down on the bed in anticipation.

“Read it, Papa, read it now!”

Rafael, too, seems affected by this knowledge. His body language is more relaxed, and he’s even leaning on Magnus’ arm a little, wanting to see the book for himself.

Flipping the cover open, Magnus turns to the first page. His fingers linger for a moment,  tracing lovingly over the dedication there. At an insistent nudge from Max, he turns to the first chapter and begins reading:

 

~

 

Alec was raised on a small farm outside the city of Idris in a place known as the Shadowlands. It was a peaceful and prosperous land, though it was often at odds with the neighbouring Downworld. For years, the rulers of the Shadowlands had been trying to impose their laws and ideals on the Downworld, stirring up animosity and prejudice between the lands.

Alec led a simple life. He enjoyed walking in the nearby forest when he could spare the time away from his responsibilities, as well as spending time with his sister Isabelle, who could always make him laugh. Most of all, he enjoyed whiling the hours away with the farm boy, Magnus. However, their time together passed silently, because they never really talked. In fact, Magnus only ever said the same three words to Alec. “As you wish.”

It all began when Magnus first arrived at Alec’s family’s farm after his parents’ death. One day, Alec was annoyed after a fight with his mother. Wanting to take his frustrations out on someone else, Alec angrily ordered Magnus to fetch him a pail of water from the well.

Magnus simply replied, “As you wish,” and did it, seeming completely unperturbed by Alec’s rudeness. It was certainly not the response Alec expected after such an outburst. It made Alec even more disgusted with himself for his behaviour. Alec knew he had treated Magnus terribly, worse than even a servant. The next day, he went to Magnus and asked for forgiveness. Magnus listened to Alec’s stammered apology, then nodded calmly and went about his duties. Alec felt better for having apologised, and when the shame over his actions faded, Alec was intrigued by Magnus’ response and began to pay closer attention to the man.

The next time they spoke, a rotten fence post had collapsed, tearing an opening in the fence. Alec was frantically trying to round up the cows and keep them away from the gap. They simply couldn’t afford to lose any of the livestock. Harried and frustrated, Alec ordered Magnus to fix the fence, and Magnus’ response was the same.

“As you wish,” he said, then hurried off to do as Alec had instructed.

Alec was surprised all over again at Magnus’ reply, so serenely spoken in midst of all the chaos. He wracked his brain to try to understand why Magnus would only say those three words to him.

Over time, it became something of a game for Alec. He tried everything he could think of to coax Magnus into saying something else, something more. Alec tried goading Magnus, insulting him, flattering him, even flirting with him. Nothing worked, and Alec became more and more frustrated. He knew Magnus _could_ speak, because Alec often saw his sister Isabelle sitting with Magnus in the fields for hours, talking nonstop. Whenever Alec approached, however, their chatter would die down to a companionable silence. For whatever reason, Magnus would not talk to Alec, apart from those same three words.

And so, Alec watched from afar, noticing how animated Magnus became during his conversations with Isabelle. When she said something funny, Magnus tossed back his head and laughed, his whole body shaking with mirth as rich peals of laughter rang out across the fields. Alec thought Magnus’ laugh was a wonderful sound, and the more he heard it, the more he wanted to again. Despite his frustration with the failure of his tactics, Alec persisted in his efforts. He was nothing if not stubborn. Next, Alec switched to jokes. If he couldn’t make Magnus speak, Alec could make him laugh. Humour was as unsuccessful as all the rest of his attempts. No matter what Alec told Magnus to do, or how he tried to trick him into talking, Magnus never faltered. Each time, he would look at Alec with his beautiful, steadfast eyes as he said those three words.

“As you wish.”

It was infuriating, to say the least.

Magnus and Alec continued on in that way for several years, neither willing to be the first to admit defeat. Perhaps they would have kept on like that forever except… On a gloomy grey day in September, a party of nobles from a far-off kingdom passed by the farm on their way to Idris. They stopped to water their horses, and Isabelle, who had never seen royalty before, dragged Alec out to admire them. Alec was in a bad mood, irritated at having to stand in the morning drizzle, his demeanour growing more sullen by the minute as Isabelle rambled on and on about the gowns and the jewellery.

One of the nobles was, apparently, Lady Camille Belcourt. The lady kept to the edge of the farmyard, holding her fine skirts out of the mud. Her entire demeanour was haughty and she looked around at their home in disdain, clearly eager to leave this place that was so obviously beneath her. That is, she was eager to leave, until she spotted Magnus chopping wood. Her eyes lit up with a predatory gleam, and she slowly picked her way across the farmyard until she was nearer the wood pile. There she stayed, her eyes never straying from Magnus. Alec would have disliked the lady in any case for the way she looked at their home like it wasn’t worthy of her presence, but this was something new. He had never felt such an instant aversion to someone. It bordered on hatred, startling Alec with its intensity. Alec found he did not care for the feeling, or the way Lady Camille looked at Magnus, licking her lips as though he was something to be devoured rather than a human being. Magnus ignored her and focused on his task. His movements were fluid, his arms rippling with effort and his forehead beading with sweat as he swung the axe again and again.

Alec’s loathing grew stronger still when Lady Camille approached Magnus. She spoke to him in a low, seductive tone, trailing a hand down his firm, muscled arm as she did so. Magnus smiled at her, his face polite but strained, and Alec could sense his unease. She didn’t seem to take the hint, pressing herself against Magnus and leaning close to whisper in his ear. The display was indecent to say the least. Alec had to do something. Anything. He was just about to walk over to them when Magnus moved away from Lady Camille, putting some distance between them. He turned to face her, his face impassive, the axe resting by his foot, and said something to her. It was only a few words, but the lady was not pleased with his response, her sharp retort leading to an argument, quick and heated, that ended with her turning her nose up at Magnus and storming off towards the horses, once more, eager to leave.

Alec’s heart thudded against his rib cage, rage spreading through his entire body until his hands shook with it. How long - how many _years_ \- had he spent trying to get Magnus to open up and talk to him? And this lady just waltzed onto his farm and got to hear Magnus’ words after just a few minutes? Alec wasn’t sure why the thought filled him with fury, but as his eyes came to rest on Magnus, the outrage he felt turned to a deep, aching hurt. Then, like a lightning bolt out of a cloudless sky, it struck him. Alec was _jealous_ . A tumult of emotions coiled inside of him. _He_ wanted to be the one talking to Magnus, touching Magnus, looking into those rich chocolate eyes. Alec stood stock still in the middle of the farmyard, overwhelmed by the realisation. He couldn’t help but to glance over at Magnus, still chopping wood - a task Alec had given him - completely unaware, and Alec couldn’t peel his eyes away from the sight.  For so many years had he worked alongside this man, his presence a comforting constant at his side. Alec had watched as those broad shoulders carried injured calves to safety, those nimble fingers gathered eggs for their meals and those brawny arms chopped the wood that kept them warm in winter. But suddenly it was as if he was really _seeing_ Magnus for the first time. Feelings Alec didn’t understand flooded into his chest, and he found himself battling the overwhelming desire to rush over to Magnus and kiss him right there in front of everyone. It had taken him so long to understand, and now all he wanted to do was act on his feelings. But he didn’t do that. Instead, Alec stood frozen, rooted to the ground, his breath rushing in and out in deep lungfuls as he struggled to find some equilibrium while his world turned upside down. Alec could no longer deny the truth. He was in love with Magnus.

A week later, they were standing by the well at the end of a long day. Alec hadn’t spoken to Magnus since his epiphany, afraid that if he did it would all come rushing out. It had made for an awkward week of working together, especially given that Alec was the one that usually did the talking. Magnus had shot Alec some strange glances as Alec wordlessly indicated what he needed to be done, they were so intune with each other, that the words didn’t need to be spoken. Alec kept his distance though, disappearing into his room as soon as the work was done. But now, standing here, Alec thought he was ready. He had to say something.

“Hand me that bucket,” Alec said. The bucket was right there, clearly within his reach. It was an idiotic request, and as soon as he’d said it, he couldn’t fathom why. Perhaps, he just wanted to hear Magnus speak. Even those exasperating words were better than no words at all.

Voice gentle as always, Magnus replied, “As you wish.”

This time, because Alec was truly listening, he heard the real meaning of the words. As Magnus reached for the bucket, Alec suddenly understood. All those years, each time Magnus said ‘as you wish,’ he had really been saying ‘I love you.’ Alec finally understood, and he cursed himself for a fool. He’d wasted so much time.

When Magnus held the bucket out to Alec, he did not take it. Much like that first recognition of what he felt for Magnus, Alec was rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do with this new and potentially life-changing information. He nervously licked his lips, trying to find the words.

“K-Kiss me,” whispered Alec, voice barely audible, full of question and uncertainty. His heart hammered as he said it, his chest tight with a small glimmer of hope. It was out in the open, however imperfectly, and he couldn’t take it back, wasn’t sure he would if he could. Alec gazed at Magnus, unable to hide how vulnerable he felt or how desperately he cared. He watched with something akin to awe as a smile spread across Magnus’ face, dawning slow and radiant as the sunrise. And when Magnus looked right back at Alec, his eyes alight with happiness, the glimmer of hope exploded into the blinding brightness of pure joy.

Magnus looked steadily into Alec’s eyes for a moment and took a step towards him, then another. As he drew close, the sun sank below the horizon, the last moments of daylight giving him an ethereal glow. Barely a breath away from Alec, lips still curved in that heart-stopping smile, Magnus spoke.

“As you wish.”

 

~

 

“You said this _wasn’t_ a kissing book!” Rafael exclaims, pulling a disgusted face and startling Magnus back to reality. He’d been happily imagining just such a kiss with Alexander, but the moment is broken now.

“I apologise,” Magnus says to his son. He really _had_ meant to skip over the kissing, wanting to save poor Rafael the horror, but Alec... well, Alec has always been a bit of a distraction for him. “I promise. No more kissing.”

“I liked the kissing,” Max pipes up shyly from where he’s nestled against Magnus’ side Magnus smiles at him, reaching over to affectionately boop him on the nose with his finger.

“I did too, Blueberry.”

“When will they get to the fighting?” Rafael persists, pointedly ignoring his father and brother.

“Okay, okay.” Magnus tells them both. He winks conspiratorially at Max. “Let’s spare your brother the torture of kissing. Now, where were we?” Magnus flicks a page ahead. “Ah, yes. ‘Having declared their love…’”

 

~

 

Having declared their love for each other, Alec and Magnus were rapturously happy. Their daily work took on a whole new meaning now, and they spent all their free time together. Magnus joined Alec on his walks through the wood, talking for hours and when Alec sat with Magnus and Isabelle in the fields the conversation would flow freely.

Every day there were new things to learn about each other. Alec learnt that Magnus had been born in the Downworld, moving to the Shadowlands when his mother had married. Magnus’ favourite colour was green, the same as the rich endless fields of his homeland. He picked daisies for Alec and wound them in a chain to hang around his neck. Alec treasured them even when the flowers had begun to wither. It was probably sickening for other people to watch, for they loved fiercely and without hesitancy, but their idyllic time together was short lived.

How could two men, neither with fortune, marry in the Shadowlands? With money, it would be easier, but still frowned upon. Nights that should have been filled with stolen moments and quiet kisses were spent discussing how they could have a future together, one where they didn’t have to hide their love for each other. Eventually, they settled on a decision. The Downworld was supposed to be a safe place for two men to marry, so Magnus would go and seek his fortune there, returning for Alec once he had found a place for them to live. Then they would finally be free to make a life together.

It was a difficult decision for Alec, because he didn’t want to leave the Shadowlands. He would miss his home and family, especially Isabelle. A small part of him wanted to believe that they might come with him to the Downworld, but it was a fool's hope, and he knew it. However, when he considered the alternative, Alec knew there was no other choice. Alec couldn’t ask Magnus to stay. He couldn’t expect Magnus to forever live a lie, loving only in secret. He couldn’t ask that of himself either. He loved Magnus with every fibre of his being, and Magnus loved him back. This was the only way they could be together. For that future, the opportunity to love Magnus openly and without fear of reproach, Alec was willing to give up everything.

They planned and prepared, and all too quickly, it was time for Magnus to leave. As Magnus stood by his horse, checking the saddle straps and tightening the reins, Alec was overcome with emotion. He didn’t want Magnus to leave, didn’t want to be parted from him. Though they’d talked about the plan at great length, Alec still wanted to go with him. He must have been unable to hide his doubts, because Magnus seemed to know exactly what he was thinking, or perhaps Magnus was trying to convince himself too.

“You have to stay.” Magnus said, a hand gently cupping Alec’s face, his thumb stroking loving across Alec’s cheek. “We can’t both abandon your family without warning.”

The words held a truth Alec was loathe to acknowledge. With Magnus gone they would be shorthanded. Alec needed to stay to find a replacement, someone who could help when they both left. Still, Alec’s stomach was filled with knots as Magnus finished checking his horse and turned to him. He pulled Alec into his arms for a final warm embrace, full of all the emotion they couldn’t put into words. Alec clung to him, unwilling to let go.

“I- I’m afraid I won’t see you again. And I don’t know if I could handle that.” Now that Magnus’ departure was imminent, Alec could no longer suppress the concerns that had been plaguing him since he’d watched Magnus begin to pack for the journey.

Magnus pulled back so Alec could see his face, his hands running up and down Alec’s arms in reassurance.

“No matter what happens,” Magnus said. “I _will_ come for you.”

His eyes were steady, and he spoke with such conviction that Alec couldn’t help but believe him.

“This is true love,” Magnus continued, and Alec, after only hearing Magnus speak the same three words for years, was struck once again by the beauty of his voice. “Do you think this happens every day?”

No. Alec supposed that what they had, so rare and precious, could only happen once in a lifetime, but the words did nothing to ease the mounting worry he felt as he watched Magnus mount his horse and ride away. His heart grew heavier still, the fear turning to dread as he watched Magnus disappear over the horizon. Alec stood watching the place where Magnus had blinked out of view until daylight faded to dusk, and he could see no more. In that moment, all Alec wanted was to have Magnus in his arms again and to never let go.

Weeks went by, and Alec received no news from Magnus. Isabelle, missing Magnus as well, was sympathetic to his despair and would often sit by Alec, filling up the empty silence with chatter and nonsense. He knew she was trying to occupy them both to keep the worry at bay, and he was grateful.

The worrying, it seemed, was a strange kind of foreboding. Not a month after Magnus’ leaving, a letter arrived, worn and well-travelled, the handwriting unfamiliar.

Upon receipt of the letter, Alec hastily tore it open, his eyes darting over the words, starved for news of his love. When his mind comprehended the words scrawled on the parchment, Alec felt his heart shatter. The ship Magnus had been travelling on had been attacked by Revenge, a ship captained by the most fearsome privateer of them all, the Dread Pirate Fell.

The letter fell from Alec’s hand and he stared at nothing, hearing only a ringing in his ears. Alec’s worst fears were realised. His hopes of seeing Magnus again - of building a life together - seemed to crumble into dust before his unseeing eyes. Even here, far from the ocean, they had heard stories of the Dread Pirate Fell, who never left a man alive. His future was gone. Magnus was… gone. Alec couldn’t comprehend the meaning of those words as he said them to himself, turning them over and over, in the hope of somehow making sense of them. He couldn’t accept them, because if he did, it would mean he was living in a world that Magnus no longer existed in.

In the days that followed, as Alec mourned his love, Magnus seemed to be everywhere. As Alec swung the axe high to chop firewood, as he calmed a nervous cow during milking, as he plucked eggs from the hen’s nests, Magnus was right beside him. They were such ordinary things, but the thought that Magnus would never get to do those things again overwhelmed Alec, twisted and broke something deep inside of him. There were places Alec tried to avoid, the straw pile in the barn Magnus had once tumbled him into, the well-trodden path through the woods where Magnus picked him daisies and most of all the well, the place where it had all begun. But each time he walked past, he saw Magnus clear as day, outlined in heavenly light with a breathtaking smile on his face. From time to time, Alec heard Magnus’ voice, too, his last words echoing through Alec like a prophecy. “Do you think this happens every day?” Just like the first time he heard Magnus say the words, Alec knew them to be true. A love like theirs was a once-in-a-lifetime gift, and he said to himself, “I will never love again.” and he knew the words to be true.

So, when the new heir to the throne, Princess Lydia Branwell, passed by the farm and took a fancy to Alec, he did not turn down her offer of marriage. What did it matter if he did not love Lydia and she did not love him? What did anything matter now? Magnus was _dead_ and he'd taken a part of Alec with him.

The princess seemed nice enough. She didn’t look down her nose at him and she didn’t think too highly of herself. They got along fairly well, both having experienced hardships and heartache. Alec thought that she sensed in him the same grief he perceived in her, but it remained unspoken between them. The marriage would be purely political in any case, there was no use for comforting words. Lydia needed to marry to take her rightful place on the throne, and she wanted a partner who would let her rule, and Alec… he had nothing left to lose. He might as well do some good.

 

~

 

“And Alec… he had nothing left to lose. He might as well do some good.” Magnus’ voice stumbles over the last few words, too much truth in the fabrication.

“I thought this was a love story.” Max’s voice is quiet, and his lips are trembling when he looks up at Magnus. Magnus sometimes forgets how much and how deeply Max feels.

Magnus’ hand is gentle as he brushes it through Max’s hair. “But it is,” He says, his voice soft and reassuring.


End file.
